


Hyperlorry

by halfeatenmoon



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Community: au_bingo, Gen, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-25
Updated: 2010-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfeatenmoon/pseuds/halfeatenmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Space trucking is hard to do alone. But where's the fun if James, Jeremy and Richard can't compete against each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hyperlorry

“The bloke at the truck stop told me that back in the day, on Earth, truckers had to travel _alone_ ,” said Jeremy, in disbelief. “Can you _imagine_?”

“I do imagine it,” James muttered, picking up the cigarette butts that littered the top of the dashboard. “Frequently.”

“At least the food’s the same.” Richard followed Jeremy back into the cabin, carrying a bundle of hamburgers and chips. “I couldn’t stand it if we had to eat that funny modern food on the road.”

“Vegetables aren’t ‘alien’, Hamster. We had them back on Earth, too.”

“Can we leave the food until we’re back on route, please?” asked James. “We haven’t got a lot of time to waste after your little joyride back at Station Five.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not still mad about that, are you?” Richard asked. “Maybe hyperships aren’t that exciting to _you_ , Mister I-used-to-work-for-the-starfleet, but when were _we_ ever going to get another chance to try out the Bugatti Newton?”

“What does it matter if we get there a bit late, anyway? It’s not like the Stigs care that much about timing as long as they get the good quality petrol, and they know we always deliver.”

The three men had been chartering space ships for a decade, but it was only quite recently with the discovery that the Stigs were willing to pay quite a lot of money for exotic fossil fuels that they really started making a living from it. It had been the oil companies who first started to colonise other planets in order to supplement their fuel sources, but unfortunately their own expeditions required the development of renewable fuels to power space ships for long enough to get there. Fortunately, contact with an alien race who considered petroleum a delicacy had kept the entire extraterrestrial human economy from collapse.

“It’s the principle. We should always try to provide the best service possible.”

“Let’s get going, then!”

“Hang on, hang on,” he said, irritably. “I’m not done with the pre-flight checks yet.”

“Can I put the radio on, at least?”

“Can we have something from _this_ century today?” asked Richard.

“What are you talking about? You love the Rolling Stones! And lorry drivers have to listen to AC/DC, it’s tradition. It’s one of the rules of lorrying. Like murdering prostitutes.”

“You’ve never murdered a prostitute in your life.”

“Well… no. Actually, maybe that’s a problem. Do you think we’re not being enough like lorryists?”

“We’re doing just fine as we are,” said James, firmly. “Let’s not add ‘murder’ to the list of your stupid habits getting us into trouble. It’s bad enough that you thought it would be funny to write rude things about Ganymedes on the side of the ship when I wasn’t looking.”

“That was extremely funny. Lots of people said so.”

“Yes, and now we can’t go back to refuel in Ganymede without people throwing rocks at us.”

“Can’t they think of anything better to throw at us than rocks?” Richard sounded faintly disappointed. “I’m surprised they can even read if that’s their idea of weaponry.”

“Shut up,” said James. “It’s time to get going.”

Richard made a mock serious face at Jeremy and sat down beside James at the co-pilot’s seat, fighting back a laugh. As the great rumbling cargo ship launched up off the ground, though, the laughter melted into silent awe. The sight never stopped being amazing, and every planet it was a different spectacle and yet slightly the same: even with a hundred different terrains and skies, there was always ground rushing beneath them, father and father away, then the sky slowly deepening in colour as they rose, the stars growing brighter against the black, until finally they were out of the atmosphere and on their way.

“Right,” said James, standing up. “That’s done. Let’s eat…”

Jeremy, who had been standing behind him for the whole of takeoff, suddenly hurried to hide an empty wrapper.

“Clarkson! I told you not to eat until we took off! You could have gotten sauce on the control panel.”

“But I didn’t.”

“But you have before! Hammond, have you gone and done it to? Isn’t there any…” his face suddenly became stricken. “You didn’t eat _mine_ , did you?”

“Right here,” said Jeremy, handing him a bundle of paper. “And if it’s gone cold, it’s your own fault.”

“I’m going to go and eat in the kitchen, where we _should_ keep the food,” James grumbled, stalking past him and disappearing through the next door. “Try not to get us into a collision while we’re gone.”

Jeremy grinned and practically flew into the captain’s chair. “So, who else is in talking distance?”

Richard pulled up a list of ships on the screen and highlighted a few of the registration numbers. “Not sure if anyone’s going as far as Planet Stig, but I’m sure at least one of them will be headed to a stopover.”

“Excellent.” Jeremy picked up the transmitter mouthpiece and punched in the first number on the list. “Hello, fellow lorryist, how are you this fine whatever time of day it is in your sleep schedule?”

“DM-342 here, your registration number, please?” came a clipped female voice.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘bloody Germans’. “TG-378. I’m Jeremy and I’m here with my co-pilot Richard.”

“My name is Sabine,” she said, more warmly. “On route to Planet Stig.”

“We are too. We were looking for someone who might enjoy a little competition on the way, but it sounds like you prefer to go by the rulebook, so…”

“Are you suggesting that I would be inadequate as a racer?” she asked. “I’ve done the Saturn circuit in under thirty days. _Three times_. I take every trip I can get to that planet because the Stigs are the only drivers I can’t beat. You’re the ones who should be afraid of losing to _me_.”

Jeremy and Richard exchanged a gleeful look.

“I’m very glad to meet you, Sabine,” Jeremy said. “As to your beating us, well, we’ll just have to see about that.”


End file.
